


Shakespeare in the Park

by celeste9



Category: Primeval
Genre: Birthday Party, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Established Relationship, Gift Fic, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becker and Matt go to a fancy dress party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shakespeare in the Park

**Author's Note:**

> Written for basched's birthday. Beta by fredbassett, title stolen from the Avengers movie.

“It’s my birthday next week,” Jess said, apropos of nothing, wedging herself in between Becker and Matt where they’d been chatting in the break room.

“I don’t think anyone is likely to forget that,” Becker said.

“I’m having a party. I’ve decided to make it fancy dress.”

Becker blinked. “What? You mean we have to wear costumes?”

Jess rolled her eyes. “Yes, you have to wear costumes. Generally that’s the point of a fancy dress party.”

Matt looked as disturbed as Becker felt. “Can’t it be optional?”

“No, it can’t be optional!”

“I hope it’s not a theme party, at least,” Becker muttered. Though, on second thoughts, that might be easier. What the hell kind of costume was he going to get?

“It isn’t.”

“So… How do people usually dress at that kind of thing?” Matt asked. “Can’t say that I’ve been to one before.”

Jess beamed at him. “They’re loads of fun, you’ll see.”

Apparently, Jess’ idea of fun differed extensively from Becker’s idea of fun. He refrained from saying that out loud, though. Sad, disappointed Jess was not a pretty sight. Becker scrambling to appease her was even less of one.

“Oh!” Jess exclaimed. The excitement in her expression was worrying. “I know! You two should go as the Avengers.”

Becker exchanged a glance with Matt, trying not to roll his eyes. “Matt can be Emma Peel.”

Sadly, that reference seemed to be beyond Matt as he looked merely confused. Apparently 60s telly hadn’t been high up on his priorities when he’d been preparing to save the world. Becker added the Avengers to his list of pop culture Matt needed to be introduced to as no one should be deprived of seeing those leather catsuits.

“Not _those_ Avengers, the superhero Avengers.” Jess gazed intently at Becker, making him feel rather like a slab of meat. “Hawkeye? You’ve certainly got the arms for it. And the arse,” she added, making Matt snort.

“I don’t think we keep the armoury stocked with bows,” Becker said, though for all the attention Jess was paying him he may as well have been talking to himself.

“Hawkeye’s not terribly exciting, though. He hardly even looks like a superhero.” Suddenly Jess clapped her hands together. “Thor! You should go as Thor, he’s got a cape and everything.”

“Not to mention those blond, flowing locks,” Matt added, laughing.

Jess turned her attention to him. “Then you can be Captain America.”

That wiped the smirk right off Matt’s face.

Becker felt his predilection to burst out laughing was entirely warranted. “Yeah, Matt, you can be Captain America, the poster boy for American propaganda, not to mention good old-fashioned values.”

“Actually, I think I should be Thor, I’ve already got the beard.”

“Your facial hair’s more Tony Stark than Thor. I’m taller, I should be Thor.”

“I don’t care which of you is which,” Jess interrupted. “Fight it out amongst yourselves, but your costumes had better be brilliant.”

“You know, Jess, I’m sure we could think of something--” Becker started to say.

Jess focused those big blue eyes on him and said, “But Becker, it’s my birthday.”

Becker sighed. Thor and Captain America it was.

-

The good thing was that finding the costumes was easy enough. The Avengers were everywhere these days and Becker was all about minimal effort. He hadn’t worn a costume since he was a teenager (the memory of it made him cringe a little; was everyone an idiot at sixteen?) and it was a shame to have to break that streak.

When presented with the choice between a blond wig and an American flag costume, Becker took the wig.

“I think this is taking the man out of time thing a bit too literally,” Matt said. He fingered the blue material of his outfit doubtfully, but Becker had long since perfected his persuasive technique.

He was very good with his tongue.

-

Jess answered the door wearing a bubbly smile and a tight black catsuit, unzipped lower than it probably should have been. She’d curled her hair and seemed to be in possession of more weapons than a birthday party called for. At least the guns were clearly plastic.

Becker raised an eyebrow. “Black Widow? Hawkeye’s costume was too dull, but you went as the Black Widow?”

“But look! I’ve got thigh straps! And Emily lent me her knives.”

“I can see that.” Becker made a mental note to try to snatch them away if Jess got too pissed later on.

“You both look brilliant, though!” Jess enthused. She ran her hands over Becker’s shoulders and then down his chest. “You fill it out nearly as well as Chris Hemsworth does.”

“Nearly?” Becker repeated, offended, as Matt said, “Steady there, stop feeling up my boyfriend.”

Jess giggled and pressed her hand to Matt’s biceps instead. “Of course you look wonderful, too, Matt. Except… the mask is a bit silly, isn’t it?”

Immediately Matt reached up and pulled the mask off, rubbing his face. “Oh, thank God, I was hoping you’d say that.”

“I think that’s cheating,” Becker said, as it didn’t seem fair that he had to wear a wig but Matt could take his mask off. The wig was _hot._ He wasn’t used to having so much hair and he couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to do so.

“Even Steve loses the mask in the film. Although, I expect that’s probably because everyone knows it would be a shame to hide Chris Evans’ face,” Jess said thoughtfully.

“Is there alcohol at this party, Jess?” Becker had a feeling he was going to need it by the time the night was over. It was probably best to get started as quickly as possible.

“Sure,” she said, waving her hand towards the stairs. “Let’s go upstairs, that’s where almost everyone else is. The kitchen’s up there and you can have whatever you want.”

They followed Jess up the stairs and then lost her as she vanished into a group of people that must have been friends from outside the ARC. The flat was crowded, but Becker supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Jess was the sort of person who made friends easily.

He and Matt stuck their gift on a table with the others and then located the kitchen. “Beer?” Becker asked, opening the refrigerator.

“Please,” Matt said.

“Not sure blond’s the best look for you, there, Becker.”

Becker glanced at Connor as he came into the kitchen, taking in the greasy, messy hair, the ripped jeans, and the leather. “Least it’s clean.” He looked past Connor to Abby, who had frizzed up her hair and made her face up more like she’d done when he’d first met her, with thick, black eyeliner and red lipstick she could have borrowed from Jenny. She had on a ratty leather jacket like Connor and a short skirt with ripped tights. “Sid and Nancy? Cute.”

“We thought we’d be the only couples costume, to be honest,” Abby said, her amused gaze dancing between Becker and Matt.

“Is it a couples costume, though?” Matt wondered. “More like we happened to pick two characters from the same film. Or had them picked for us, I mean.”

“Pretty sure Steve and Thor weren’t shagging,” Becker agreed.

Abby shrugged. “If they weren’t, they should have been.”

Connor choked on whatever he was drinking and Abby patted him on the back, probably harder than she needed to.

“Steady,” she said, grinning.

Becker slung his arm around Matt’s waist. “We could have a snog, give you an idea of what it would have looked like,” he offered.

“I hate you, all of you,” Connor said, backing out of the kitchen and fleeing.

Abby gazed fondly at him and then said to Becker and Matt, “You two look sweet, though,” before following after.

“Sweet,” Becker scoffed.

“Maybe you should do something impressive with your hammer,” Matt suggested.

Becker snorted. “That did not sound right.”

“Yeah, I realised after it was too late to take back.”

“In any case, I’m pretty sure waving around a giant fake hammer would only make me look like I need to be institutionalised.”

“Wouldn’t it just make you look like you’re really in character?”

“Like going method at a fancy dress party? I’ll expect to hear you start calling women ‘dames’ in a Brooklyn accent, then.”

Matt’s mouth quirked. “Not until you start talking like you wandered into a Shakespeare play.”

“You don’t think my accent’s posh enough?” Becker said, drawing back like he was offended. “I’ll have you know, it took years of public school to perfect this.”

“It shows.”

“Why, Matt, are you insulting me? Don’t you know the sort of thing boys pick up at public school?” Becker waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Matt laughed and shoved Becker’s shoulder. “And here I was thinking that was an offensive stereotype.”

“Only if it’s not true,” Becker said and leaned in for a kiss. He reached out blindly and managed to set his beer on the counter, next to the hammer, giving him the opportunity to run his hands down Matt’s sides. Matt’s Captain America shield thunked against the backs of Becker’s legs.

When Becker pulled back, he said, “Well, I will say one thing for your costume-- your arse looks amazing in it.”

“You think so?” Matt asked, obnoxiously preening a little. The blue fabric stretched quite nicely over his legs and afore-mentioned fabulous arse. “It’s certainly tight enough.”

“I like it,” Becker said and settled back in for a long kiss, wrapping his arms around Matt and taking his time.

“I don’t recall seeing this in the film; I suppose it must be in the deleted scenes. I can see why they cut it.”

Lester’s drawl was unmistakable and Becker pressed one last little kiss to Matt’s mouth before they parted. He wondered what Jess had done to get Lester to make an appearance, deeply regretting that he’d missed it. He eyed Lester up and down, observing the grey suit and the muted colours of his shirt and tie. “Who are you supposed to be?”

“Bond. James Bond,” Lester said dryly.

“Really? Changing the colour of your tie does not a costume make; looks like an excuse to be lazy and dress the way you always do,” Becker said, but then he noticed the lack of smooth lines in the cut of Lester’s suit. He reached his hand under Lester’s suit jacket, pushing it aside amidst Lester’s noise of protest. “Or perhaps not quite the same,” he allowed as he revealed the gun holster.

And the real gun. “Plastic wasn’t good enough for you?”

Lester shrugged. “Seemed silly to waste money on a cheap replica when I have an entire armoury at my disposal.”

“I trust you’re practising proper gun safety?”

“It isn’t loaded,” Lester said, almost huffily. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“You know Becks and his guns,” Matt said, smirking a tiny bit. “Any particular Bond? Everyone’s got a favourite, don’t they?”

“Connery’s best, isn’t he? Of course I would settle for nothing less.”

“Connery’s the dull choice,” Becker said. “Everyone says Connery.”

“Well, I try not to be controversial.”

Becker raised an eyebrow.

“Craig has his merits,” Lester relented.

“What, like his arse?”

Lester gazed at him disparagingly. “Not all of us have fallen into the gutter quite as far as you have, Captain,” he said and made his exit.

Becker leaned into Matt, nuzzling his neck. “I think he doth protest too much. I bet he spent the entirety of Skyfall ogling Daniel Craig’s bum.”

Matt chuckled. “I’m sure you’re right, Becks.”

“I’m always right,” Becker insisted. “Come on, I want to traumatise Connor some more.”

**_End_ **


End file.
